AMONG THE BRETHREN Part 6

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Samantha Among the Brethren, Part 6

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by Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)

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Title: Samantha Among the Brethren, Part 6.

Author: Josiah Allen's Wife (Marietta Holley)

Release Date: August 10, 2004 [EBook #9448]

Language: English

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SAMANTHA

AMONG THE BRETHREN.

BY

"JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE"

(MARIETTA HOLLEY).

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

.

1890

Part 6.

TO

All Women

WHO WORK, TRYING TO BRING INTO DARK LIVES

THE BRIGHTNESS AND HOPE OF A

BETTER COUNTRY,

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED.

PREFACE.

Again it come to pass, in the fulness of time, that my companion, Josiah Allen, see me walk up and take my ink stand

off of the manteltry piece, and carry it with a calm and majestick gait to the corner of the settin' room table devoted by
me to literary pursuits. And he sez to me:

"What are you goin' to tackle now, Samantha?"

And sez I, with quite a good deal of dignity, "The Cause of Eternal Justice, Josiah Allen."

"Anythin' else?" sez he, lookin' sort o' oneasy at me. (That man realizes his shortcomin's, I believe, a good deal of the

time, he duz.)

"Yes," sez I, "I lay out in petickuler to tackle the Meetin' House. She is in the wrong on't, and I want to set her right."

Josiah looked sort o' relieved like, but he sez out, in a kind of a pert way, es he set there a-shellin corn for the hens:

"A Meetin' House hadn't ort to be called she—it is a he."

And sez I, "How do you know?"

And he sez, "Because it stands to reason it is. And I'd like to know what you have got to say about him any way?"

Sez I, "That 'him' don't sound right, Josiah Allen. It sounds more right and nateral to call it 'she.' Why," sez I, "hain't

we always hearn about the Mother Church, and don't the Bible tell about the Church bein' arrayed like a bride for her

husband? I never in my life hearn it called a 'he' before."

"Oh, wall, there has always got to be a first time. And I say it sounds better. But what have you got to say about the

Meetin' House, anyway?"

"I have got this to say, Josiah Allen. The Meetin' House hain't a-actin' right about wimmen. The Founder of the

Church wuz born of woman. It wuz on a woman's heart that His head wuz pillowed first and last. While others slept she
watched over His baby slumbers and His last sleep. A woman wuz His last thought and care. Before dawn she wuz at
the door of the tomb, lookin' for His comin'. So she has stood ever sense—waitin', watchin', hopin', workin' for the
comin' of Christ. Workin', waitin' for His comin' into the hearts of tempted wimmen and tempted men—fallen men and
fallen wimmen—workin', waitin', toilin', nursin' the baby good in the hearts of a sinful world—weepin' pale-faced over
its crucefixion—lookin' for its reserection. Oh how she has worked all through the ages!"

"Oh shaw!" sez Josiah, "some wimmen don't care about anythin' but crazy work and back combs."

I felt took down, for I had been riz up, quite considerble, but I sez, reasonable:

"Yes, there are such wimmen, Josiah, but think of the sweet and saintly souls that have given all their lives, and hopes,

and thoughts to the Meetin' House—think of the throngs to-day that crowd the aisles of the Sanctuary—there are five
wimmen to one man, I believe, in all the meetin' houses to-day a-workin' in His name. True Daughters of the King, no
matter what their creed may be—Catholic or Protestant.

"And while wimmen have done all this work for the Meetin' House, the Meetin' House ort to be honorable and do

well by her."

"Wall, hain't he?" sez Josiah.

"No, she hain't," sez I.

"Wall, what petickuler fault do you find? What has he done lately to rile you up?"

Sez I, "She wuz in the wrong on't in not lettin' wimmen set on the Conference."

"Wall, I say he wuz right," sez Josiah. "He knew, and I knew, that wimmen wuzn't strong enough to set."

"Why," sez I, "it don't take so much strength to set as it duz to stand up. And after workin' as hard as wimmen have

for the Meetin' House, she ort to have the priveledge of settin'. And I am goin' to write out jest what I think about it."

"Wall," sez Josiah, as he started for the barn with the hen feed, "don't be too severe with the Meetin' House."

And then, after he went out, he opened the door agin and stuck his head in and sez:

"Don't be too hard on him"

And then he shet the door quick, before I could say a word. But good land! I didn't care. I knew I could say what I

wanted to with my faithful pen—and I am bound to say it.

JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE, Bonny View,
near Adams, New York,
Oct. 14th, 1890.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CHAPTER XXV.

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CHAPTER XXIII.

Miss Timson's letter wuz writ to me on the 6th day of his sickness, and Josiah and me set sail for Loontown on the

follerin' day after we got it.

I laid the case before the female Sisters of the meetin' house, and they all counselled me to go. For, as they all said,

on account of Sister Bobbet's fallin' on the apple parin' we could not go on with the work of paperin' the meetin' house,
and so the interests of Zion wouldn't languish on account of my absence for a day or two any way. And, as the female
Sisters all said, it seemed as if the work I wuz called to in Loontown wuz a fair and square case of Duty, so they all
counselled me to go, every one on 'em. Though, as wuz nateral, there wuz severel divisions of opinions as to the road I
should take a-goin' there, what day I should come back, what remiedies wuz best for me to recommend when I got
there, what dress I should wear, and whether I should wear a hankerchif pin or not—or a bib apron, or a plain banded
one, etc., etc., etc., etc.

But, as I sez, as to my goin' they wuz every one on 'em unanimus. They meen well, those sisters in the meetin' house

do, every one on 'em.

Josiah acted real offish at first about goin'. And he laid the case before the male brothers of the meetin' house, for

Josiah wuz fearful that the interests of the buzz saw mill would languish in his absence. One or two of the weaker
brethren joined in with him, and talked kinder deprestin' about it.

But Deacon Sypher and Deacon Henzy said they would guard his interests with eagle visions, or somethin' to that

effect, and they counselled Josiah warmly that it wuz his duty to go.

We hearn afterwards that Deacon Sypher and Deacon Henzy wanted to go into the North Woods a-fishin' and a-

huntin' for 2 or 3 days, and it has always been spozed by me that that accounted for their religeus advice to Josiah
Allen.

Howsumever, I don't know that. But I do know that they started off a-fishin' the very day we left for Loontown, and

that they come back home about the time we did, with two long strings of trout.

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And there wuz them that said that they ketched the trout, and them that said they bought 'em.

And they brung back the antlers of a deer in their game bags, and some bones of a elk. And there are them that sez

that they dassent, either one of 'em, shoot off a gun, not hardly a pop gun. But I don't know the truth of this. I know
what they said, they said the huntin' wuz excitin' to the last degree, and the fishin' superb.

And there wuz them that said that they should think the huntin' would be excitin', a-rummagin' round on the ground

for some old bones, and they should think the fishin' would be superb, a-dippin' 'em out of a barell and stringin' 'em
onto their own strings.

But their stories are very large, that I know. And each one on 'em, accordin' to their tell, ketched more trouts than

the other one, and fur bigger ones, and shot more deers.

Wall, Deacon Sypher'ses advice and Deacon Henzy's influenced Josiah a good deal, and I said quite a few words to

him on the subject, and, suffice it to say, that the next day, about 10 A.M., we set out on our journey to Loontown.

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Miss Timson and Rosy seemed dretful glad to see me, but they wuz pale and wan, wanner fur than I expected to see

'em; but after I had been there a spell I see how it wuz. I see that Ralph wuz their hero as well as their love, and they
worshipped him in every way, with their hearts and their souls and their idealized fancies.

Wall, he wuz a noble lookin' man as I ever see, fur or near, and as good a one as they make, he wuz strong and

tender, so I couldn't blame 'em.

And though I wouldn't want Josiah to hear me say too much about it, or mebby it would be best that he shouldn't,

before I had been there 24 hours I begun to feel some as they did.

But my feelin's wuz strictly in a meetin' house sense, strictly.

But I begun to feel with them that the middle of the world wuz there in that bedroom, and the still, white figure a-layin'

there wuz the centre, and the rest of the world wuz a-revolvin' round him.

His face wuz worn and marked by the hand of Time and Endeaver. But every mark wuz a good one. The Soul,

which is the best sculptor after all, had chiselled into his features the marks of a deathless endeavor and struggle toward
goodness, which is God. Had marked it with the divine sweetness and passion of livin' and toilin' for the good of others.

He had gi'n his life jest as truly to seek and save them that wuz lost as ever any old prophet and martyr ever had

sense the world began. But under all these heavenly expressions that a keen eye could trace in his good lookin' face,
could be seen a deathly weakness, the consumin' fire that wuz a-consumin' of him.

Miss Timson wept when she see me, and Rosy threw herself into my arms and sobbed. But I gently ondid her arms

from round my neck and give Miss Timson to understand that I wuz there to help 'em if I could.

"For," sez I softly, "the hull future time is left for us to weep in, but the present wuz the time to try to help Ralph S.

Robinson."

Wall, I laid to, Josiah a-helpin' me nobly, a-pickin' burdock leaves or beet leaves, as the case might be, and a-

standin' by me nobly all through the follerin' night (that is, when he wuz awake).

Josiah and I took care on him all that night, Miss Timson refusin' to give him into the charge of underlin's, and we a-

offerin' and not to be refused.

Wall, Josiah slept some, or that is, I s'poze he did. I didn't hear much from him from 10 P.M. to 5 A.M., only once I

heard him murmer in his sleep, "buzz saw mill."

But every time I would come out into the settin' room where he sot and roust him up to get sunthin' for me, he would

say, almost warmly—

"Samantha, that last remark of your'n wuz very powerful." And I wouldn't waste my time nor hisen by tellin' him that I

hadn't made no remark, nor thought on't. I see it would hurt his feelin's, specilly as he would add in haste—

"That he didn't see how folks needed so much sleep; as for him, it wuz a real treat to keep awake all night, now and

then."

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No, I would let it go, and ask him for burdock or beet, as the case might be. Truly I had enugh on my mind and heart

that night without disputin' with my Josiah.

Ralph S. Robinson would lay lookin' like a dead man some of the time, still and demute, and then he would speak

out in a strange language, stranger than any I ever heard. He would preach sermons in that language, I a-knowin' it wuz
a sermen by his gestures, and also by my feelin's. And then he would shet up his eyes and pray in that strange, strange
tongue, and anon breakin' out into our own language. And once he said:

"And now may the peace of God be with you all. Amen. The peace of God! the peace! the peace!"

His voice lingered sort o' lovin'ly over that word, and I felt that he wuz a-thinkin' then of the real peace, the onbroken

stillness, outside and inside, that he invoked.

Rosy would steal in now and then like a sweet little shadow, and bend down and kiss her Pa, and cry a little over his

thin, white hands which wuz a-lyin' on the coverlet, or else lifted in that strange speech that sounded so curius to us, a-
risin' up out of the stillness of a Loontown spare bedroom on a calm moonlit evenin'.

Wall, Friday and Saturday he wuz crazier'n a loon, more'n half the time he wuz, but along Saturday afternoon the

Doctor told us that the fever would turn sometime the latter part of the night, and if he could sleep then, and not be
disturbed, there would be a chance for his life.

Wall, Miss Timson and Rosy both told me how the ringin' of the bells seemed to roust him up and skair him (as it

were) and git him all excited and crazy. And they both wuz dretful anxius about the mornin' bells which would ring when
Ralph would mebby be sleepin'. So thinkin' it wuz a case of life and death, and findin' out who wuz the one to tackle in

the matter, I calmly tied on my bonnet and walked over and tackled him.

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CHAPTER XXIV.

It wuz Deacon Garven and he wuz a close communion Baptist by perswaision, and a good man, so fur as firm morals

and a sound creed goes.

Some things he lacked: he hadn't no immagination at all, not one speck. And in makin' him up, it seems as if he had a

leetle more justice added to him to make up a lack of charity and pity. And he had a good deal of sternness and resolve
gin him, to make up, I spoze, for a lack of tenderness and sweetness of nater.

A good sound man Deacon Garven wuz, a man who would cheat himself before he would cheat a neighber. He wuz

jest full of qualities that would hender him from ever takin' a front part in a scandel and a tragedy. Yes, if more men wuz
like Deacon Garven the pages of the daily papers would fairly suffer for rapiners, embezzlers, wife whippers, etc.

Wall, he wuz in his office when I tackled him. The hired girl asked me if I come for visitin' purposes or business, and

I told her firmly, "business!"

So she walked me into a little office one side of the hall, where I spoze the Deacon transacted the business that come

up on his farm, and then he wuz Justice of the Peace, and trustee of varius concerns (every one of 'em good ones).

He is a tall, bony man, with eyes a sort of a steel gray, and thin lips ruther wide, and settin' close together. And

without lookin' like one, or, that is, without havin' the same features at all, the Deacon did make me think of a steel trap.

I spoze it wuz because he wuz so sound, and sort o' firm. A steel trap is real firm when it lays hold and tries to be.

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Wall, I begun the subject carefully, but straight to the pint, as my way is, by tellin' him that Ralph S. Robinson wuz a-

layin' at death's door, and his life depended on his gettin' sleep, and we wuz afraid the bells in the mornin' would roust
him up, and I had come to see if he would omit the ringin' of 'em in the mornin'.

"Not ring the bells!" sez he, in wild amaze. "Not ring the church bells on the Sabbath day?"

His look wuz skairful in the extreme, but I sez—

"Yes, that is what I said, we beg of you as a Christian to not ring the bells in the mornin'."

"A Christian! A Christian! Advise me as a Christian to not ring the Sabbath bells!"

I see the idee skairt him. He wuz fairly pale with surprise and borrow. And I told him agin', puttin' in all the perticilers

it needed to make the story straight and good, how Ralph S. Robinson had labored for the good of others, and how his
strength had gin out, and he wuz now a-layin' at the very pint of death, and how his girl and his sister wuz a-breakin'
their hearts over him, and how we had some hopes of savin' his life if he could get some sleep, that the doctors said his
life depended on it, and agin I begged him to do what we asked.

But the Deacon had begin to get over bein' skairt, and he looked firm as anybody ever could, as he sez: "The bells

never hurt anybody, I know, for here I have lived right by the side of 'em for 20 years. Do I look broke down and
weak?" sez he.

"No," sez I, honestly. "No more than a grannit monument, or a steel trap."

"Wall," sez he, "what don't hurt me won't hurt nobody else."

"But," sez I, "folks are made up different." Sez I, "The Bible sez so, and what might not hurt you, might be the ruin of

somebody else. Wuz you ever nervous?" sez I.

"Never," sez he. And he added firmly, "I don't believe in nerves. I never did. There hain't no use in 'm."

"It wuz a wonder they wuz made, then," sez I. "As a generel thing the Lord don't make things there hain't no use on.

Howsumever," sez I, "there hain't no use in disputin' back and forth on a nerve. But any way, sickness is so fur apart
from health, that the conditions of one state can't be compared to the other; as Ralph S. Robinson is now, the sound of
the bells, or any other loud noise means torture and agony to him, and, I am afraid, death. And I wish you would give
orders to not have 'em rung in the mornin'."

"Are you a professor?" sez he.

"Yes," sez I.

"What perswaision?" sez he.

"Methodist Episcopal," sez I.

"And do you, a member of a sister church, which, although it has many errors, is still a-gropin' after the light! Do you

counsel me to set aside the sacred and time honored rules of our church, and allow the Sabbath to go by unregarded,
have the sanctuary desecrated, the cause of religion languish—I cannot believe it. Think of the widespread desolation it
would cause if, as the late lamented Mr. Selkirk sung:

"'The sound of the church-going bells,

These valleys and hills never heard.'"

"No church, no sanctuary, no religius observances."

"Why," sez I, "that wouldn't hinder folks from goin' to church. Folks seem to get to theatres, lectures, and disolvin'

views on time, and better time than they do to meetin'," sez I. "In your opinin' it hain't necessary to beat a drum and
sound on a bugle as the Salvation Army duz, to call folks to meetin'; you are dretful hard on them, so I hear."

"Yes, they make a senseless, vulgar, onnecessary racket, disturbin' and agrivatin' to saint and sinner."

"But," sez I, "they say they do it for the sake of religion."

"Religion hain't to be found in drum-sticks," sez he bitterly.

"No," sez I, "nor in a bell clapper."

"Oh," sez he, "that is a different thing entirely, that is to call worshippers together, that is necessary."

Sez I, "One hain't no more necessary than the other in my opinion."

Sez he, "Look how fur back in the past the sweet bells have sounded out."

"Yes," sez I candidly, "and in the sweet past they wuz necessary," sez I. "In the sweet past, there wuzn't a clock nor a

watch, the houses wuz fur apart, and they needed bells. But now there hain't a house but what is runnin' over with
clocks—everybody knows the time; they know it so much that time is fairly a drug to 'em. Why, they time themselves
right along through the day, from breakfast to midnight. Time their meals, their business, their pleasures, their music,
their lessons, their visits, their visitors, their pulse beats, and their dead beats. They time their joys and their sorrows,
and everything and everybody, all through the week, and why should they stop short off Sundays? Why not time
themselves on goin' to meetin'? They do, and you know it. There hain't no earthly need of the bells to tell the time to go
to meetin', no more than there is to tell the time to put on the tea-kettle to get supper. If folks want to go to meetin' they
will get there, bells or no bells, and if they don't want to go, bells hain't a-goin' to get 'em started.

"Take a man with the Sunday World jest brung in, a-layin' on a lounge, with his feet up in a chair, and kinder lazy in

the first place, bells hain't a-goin' to start him.

"And take a woman with her curl papers not took down, and a new religeus novel in her hand, and a miliner that

disapinted her the night before, and bells hain't a-goin' to start her. No, the great bell of Moscow won't start 'em.

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"And take a good Christian woman, a widow, for instance, who loves church work, and has a good handsome

Christian pasture, who is in trouble, lost his wife, mebby, or sunthin' else bad, and the lack of bells hain't a-goin' to keep
that women back, no, not if there wuzn't a bell on earth."

"Oh, wall, wavin' off that side of the subject," sez he (I had convinced him, I know, but he wouldn't own it, for he

knew well that if folks wanted to go they always got there, bells or no bells). "But," sez he wavin' off that side of the
subject, "the observance is so time honored, so hallowed by tender memories and associations all through the past."

"Don't you 'spoze, Deacon Garven," sez I, "that I know every single emotion them bells can bring to anybody, and

felt all those memorys and associations. I'll bet, or I wouldn't be afraid to bet, if I believed in bettin', that there hain't a
single emotion in the hull line of emotions that the sound of them bells can wake up, but what I have felt, and felt 'em
deep too, jest as deep as anybody ever did, and jest es many of 'em. But it is better for me to do without a upliftin',
soarin' sort of a feelin' ruther than have other people suffer agony."

"Agony!" sez he, "talk about their causin' agony, when there hain't a more heavenly sound on earth."

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"So it has been to me," sez I candidly. "To me they have always sounded beautiful, heavenly. Why," sez I, a-lookin'

kinder fur off, beyond Deacon Garven, and all other troubles, as thoughts of beauty and insperation come to me borne
out of the past into my very soul, by the tender memories of the bells—thoughts of the great host of believers who had
gathered together at the sound of the bells—the great army of the Redeemed—

'Some of the host have crossed the flood,

and some are crossin' now,'

thinks I a-lookin' way off in a almost rapped way. And then I sez to Deacon Garven in a low soft voice, lower and

more softer fur, than I had used to him,

"Don't I know what it is to stand a-leanin' over the front gate on a still spring mornin', the smell of the lilacs in the air,

and the brier roses. A dew sparklin' on the grass under the maples, and the sunshine a-fleckin' the ground between 'em,
and the robins a-singin' and the hummin' birds a-hoverin' round the honeysuckles at the door. And over all and through
all, and above all clear and sweet, comin' from fur off a-floatin' through the Sabbath stillness, the sound of the bells, a-
bringin' to us sweet Sabbath messages of love and joy. Bringin' memories too, of other mornin's as fair and sweet, when
other ears listened with us to the sound, other eyes looked out on the summer beauty, and smiled at the sound of the
bells. Heavenly emotions, sweet emotions come to me on the melody of the bells, peaceful thoughts, inspirin' thoughts of
the countless multitude that has flocked together at the sound of the bells. The aged feet, the eager youthful feet, the
children's feet, all, all walkin' to the sound of the bells. Thoughts of the happy youthful feet that set out to walk side by
side, at their ringin' sounds. Thoughts of the aged ones grown tired, and goin' to their long dreamless sleep to their
solemn sound. Thoughts of the brave hero's who set out to protect us with their lives while the bells wuz ringin' out their
approval of such deeds. Thoughts of how they pealed out joyfully on their return bearin' the form of Peace. Thoughts of
how the bells filled the mornin' and evenin' air, havin' throbbed and beat with every joy and every pain of our life, till
they seem a part of us (as it were) and the old world would truly seem lonesome without 'em.

"As I told you, and told you truly, I don't believe there is a single emotion in the hull line of emotions, fur or near, but

what them bells have rung into my very soul.

"But such emotions, beautiful and inspirin' though they are, can be dispensed with better than justice and mercy can.

Sweet and tender sentiment is dear to me, truly, near and dear, but mercy and pity and common sense, have also a
powerful grip onto my right arm, and have to lead me round a good deal of the time.

"Beautiful emotion, when it stands opposed to eternal justice, ort to step gently aside and let justice have a free road.

Sentiment is truly sweet, but any one can get along without it, take it right along through the year, better than they can
without sleep.

"You see if you can't sleep you must die, while a person can worry along a good many years without sentiment. Or,

that is, I have been told they could. I don't know by experience, for I have always had a real lot of it. You see my
experience has been such that I could keep sentiment and comfort too. But my mind is such, that I have to think of them
that hain't so fortunate as I am.

"I have looked at the subject from my own standpoint, and have tried also to look at it through others' eyes, which is

the only way we can get a clear, straight light on any subject. As for me, as I have said, I would love to hear the sweet,
far off sound of the bells a-tremblin' gently over the hills to me from Jonesville; it sounds sweeter to me than the voices
of the robins and swallers, a-comin' home from the South in the spring of the year. And I would deerly love to have it
go on and on as fur as my own feelins are concerned. But I have got to look at the subject through the tired eyes, and
feel it through the worn-out nerves of others, who are sot down right under the wild clamor of the bells.

"What comes to me as a heavenly melody freighted full of beautiful sentiment and holy rapture comes to them as an

intolerable agony, a-maddenin' discord, that threatens their sanity, that rouses 'em up from their fitful sleep, that murders
sleep—the bells to them seem murderus, strikin' noisily with brazen hands, at their hearts.

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"To them tossin' on beds of nervous sufferin', who lay for hours fillin' the stillness with horror, with dread of the bells,

where fear and dread of 'em exceed the agony of the clangor of the sound when it comes at last. Long nights full of a
wakeful horror and expectency, fur worse than the realization of their imaginin's. To them the bells are a instrument of
torture jest as tuff to bear as any of the other old thumb screws and racks that wrung and racked our old 4 fathers in the
name of Religion.